#kyakuuu

“Send him in, thanks, Ben!” he called back. He was still honestly unsure of how the intercom worked-- it was ordered from Stark and installed before Reed moved in-- but Reed was just grateful that it didn’t involve buttons for him. Straightening up he pushed aside the mound of paperwork sitting on his desk (Ben would be haranguing him later for putting it off) and glanced at his rumpled appearance in the dark computer screen before crossing to the laboratory door. Jonny Storm, co-ceo of StormTech, had been called and requested to consult on Reed’s latest project; the agent who handled the introduction had reported to Ben, who reported to Reed, that “mr. Storm was very much looking forward to it.” The idea of someone looking forward to seeing Reed’s work was making him silly with excitement. Did he look alright? His hair was messy, he thought. His hands had grease on them, but maybe that would help. Reed carded his hands through his hair, a little frantically, then scrubbed them on his jeans.

Ben the bodyguard knocked twice on the lab door before opening it and stepping inside, holding the door open. He was followed in by a black man, young, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. It occurred to Reed that he was thinking of an adjective, and that adjective was handsome. Very much so. Reed needed a word. Or three. Find a word, Reed, find a word! “Thank you, Ben,” he said, approaching the pair of them. Ben’s eyes swept from dumbstruck Reed to posing Johnny before rolling over once. He stepped out and closed the door. Johnny watched him leave and turned back to Reed.

“You know, when most genius scientists hire a wall of meat to protect them, they hire someone who looks a little imposing,” he commented, and watched Reed glance to the door and back at him.

“Ben’s intimidating,” Reed said.

“To the Hobbit population, maybe,” Johnny shot back. Reed chuckled at that. Then something occurred to him.

“You mean to say you’re not one of those genius scientists, either?”

“Nah,” Johnny said. “I’m a rebel. I just dunked myself in a chemical compound that lets me set myself on fire.” Reed’s oh, right face, when he made it, was adorable.

“Oh, right,” he added. “The human torch, right? I heard about that. Ben says they put you on the Index-- SHIELD, I mean.”

“Yes, I know who your boyfriend works for,” Johnny interrupted, rolling his eyes. Reed frowned.

“Ben’s not my boyfriend,” he said. He understood why some people might think so-- Ben was living in Reed’s apartment, they communicated well, there was the occasional fond moment-- but Ben mostly kept their relationship professional. Johnny raised his eyebrows. “He’s not, is he?” He said. Reed shook his head.

“In that case,” Johnny said, starting the walk towards the mound of carefully balanced metal and wire he assumed was Reed’s project, “How does a drink sound after this?”

“Er,” Reed said. “That sounds cool.” He was smiling when he said it, which Johnny took as a good thing.

“Awesome,” he said. “I saw this cool-looking place on the way in-- it was claiming Iron Man used to make regular stops, which I can honestly believe with that dude’s reputation.”

“Sounds fun,” Reed said, and his smile grew. “We should probably get to work, though.”